


December

by IWriteStuffAndThings



Category: Original Work
Genre: Breakup, F/M, M/M, Narrator can be whatever gender, Sad, Sorta Poetry, Toxic Realationship, Unhealthy Relationships, Wordy, but kinda happy, kinda angsty, this is from a prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 04:23:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13240347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWriteStuffAndThings/pseuds/IWriteStuffAndThings
Summary: "It was the first time I killed a man, that snowy December day. "It isn't easy to detach oneself from someone so dear, but sometimes it is necessary. The tale of a companionship gone too far and the damaging power of overpowering emotions.---Prompt: Begin a scene with "It was the first time I killed a man."





	December

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello.  
> I left the gender of the main character ambiguous so whoever is reading this can connect better, although I am very sorry for my lesbian and or F/F readers out there. The love interest is male, I wrote it that way because I am romantically interested in males and don't personally want to write anything that I am not experienced in.
> 
> Anyways this is from a prompt I found in an old book. I sat down for like 10 minutes and wrote this. I really hope you enjoy, I post other stuff with OC's and sometimes a fandom or too
> 
> Cheerio.

It was the first time I killed a man, that snowy December day. The collective redness of our noses stood in stark contrast to the snowy streets and sidewalks only made purer by the bright sky. However, the silence between the two of us was not lost within the hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers. I scanned his seemingly placid stature, our intimate knowledge of one another letting me see the hurt in small movements. The way he robotically pulled his scarf over his nose to hide the tremble of his lips. The way his eyes somehow found everything but me, as if I could take back what I said. But I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean that it would hurt him any less.

We had been together for about a year and a half. It had started out fine; we were comfortable around each other. I trusted him, and he trusted me. Our “I love you”’s were backed by truth and the way we would come to each other to unload and just breathe was refreshing. The way he protected me seemed like an open invitation to grow a dependency, but I was tentative. I pushed back, trusting him to understand that I needed to function as my own person. He didn’t, and his fears that I was shutting him out led to arguments upon arguments, which made me even more cautious around him. But when he hit a rough patch and needed me, I was there. And unlike me, he saw no problem in attaching us at the hip. He depended on me, but I did not. To him, I was a precious gem, something that he could use to be seen as a rich man and use as consolidation when he wasn’t stable. I was his lifeline, something to prove that he could be an adult and land a relationship. I felt used, and my side of the emotional connection was beginning to falter. I was his lifeline, but he was my ball and chain. His sweet nothings buoyed me back into the relationship, but with each day I began to see how I needed to detach myself from this endless cycle of falling and getting back up again. But the longer I stayed the more intense he got, desperately trying to make up for my lack of emotional reciprocation by doubling his own. Our day to day had become him throwing anything and everything he had into me, hoping that I could take it.

The situation was far too dire, and as I trailed behind him through the busy center of the town, I realized that I couldn’t do this anymore. I stopped. He stopped, and the words I didn’t want to say and the words he couldn’t bear to hear started to spill out of my mouth like a torrential rain of bullets. I watched as each syllable stabbed him, the silence only twisting the knife further. That was the first time I killed a man, and it had to be one that I loved.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have anymore prompts you'd like to see written, suggest them on my tumblr.  
> https://writtenstuffandthings.tumblr.com/


End file.
